Working at the Ministry of Magic
by Kokoro893
Summary: IWSC: While having an Internship at the Ministry of Magic, Hermione struggles during her week at the Department for International Cooperation with both her tasks and Percy.


**Special Thanks to Liz Jean Tonks for making this not suck (completely). 3**

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International Wizarding School Championship

Round Two: Working at the Ministry of Magic

Department of International Cooperation

Mahoutokoro, Year 7

Main Prompt: (character) Percy Weasley

Additional Prompts: (event) The Quidditch World Cup, (creature) Hippogriff

Word Count: 2249

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**Working at the Ministry of Magic**

Hermione stood in front of the office, tugging on her robes. It was only her second week of the internship and clever as she was she had come in an hour early to make sure she had enough time to search for the right office. Arthur, of course, had offered her to help her navigate the sheer endless rooms and hallways of the Ministry of Magic but she wanted to manage on her own.

Standing in front of Mr. Hargreaves' door, in the robes and pencil skirt she had extra bought for this assignment, she realized for the first time that she was an adult now. Soon she would be graduating from Hogwarts and applying for a job preferably at the Ministry where the young witch hoped to do some good.

Barely an hour after she got dresses the unusual attire was already getting to her nerves. The past week at the Department of Magical Transportation was rather fun and laid back. She was even allowed to wear jeans but here at the Department for International Magical Cooperation things were a lot more formal. Mr. Hargreaves had sent her a memo in advance to make sure she dressed accordingly.

Hermione took a deep breath, knocked and entered the office. Stepping into the relatively small room she was met with a distinctive shock of red hair.

"Hermione, what are you doing here?" Percy asked, hugging her.

"I'm here for my internship."

"I didn't know you two were close," Mr. Hargreaves stated.

Hermione replied, "We´re not."

It was awkward to see Percy after all this time again. He might have used the past year reconnecting to his family but she had spent that time away looking for her parents and studying. And if she was honest with herself, she wasn't really interested in it. Hermione used to look up to her ambitious prefect but he had failed her once or twice too often.

Percy and Mr. Hargreaves, an older wizard dressed in an immaculate but washed out suit that was covered by a reddish, yellowish floral pattern that screamed the 70s, continued to talk about the Quidditch World Cup in Brazil as if they had forgotten that she was there. While the young witch generally didn't care about sports, she still wanted to be included or given a task and be dismissed.

Standing there in clothes she would have never picked for herself, her gaze wandered between the Weasley's formerly lost boy and her Head of Department. She was fascinated by his old brown-leather oxfords. While the wrinkles in the material were clearly visible they were well taken care of and polished.

Finally, Mr. Hargreaves told Percy to show her around. The red-haired started the tour by showing Hermione his own small office. Hermione had a hard time trying to overlook the brass name-tag on his dress-robes. She just couldn't comprehend how the very wizard who owled her twice to ensure she understood how devastating any mishap can be when it comes to International Relations, would choose Percy as his deputy.

After a couple of hours of making coffee, this was far from how she had imagined her day would go, Hermione was up to date with office-gossip. Apparently, the officials Hodgson and Parry from law enforcement were having an affair tolerated by their wives since Miller from the Auror-Department was screwing both of them during his work-hours. She couldn't help but roll her eyes.

Having spent hours listening to Percy's bragging and sitting around trying not to be completely useless, she was told that she was accompanying Mr. Hargreaves and Percy to the World Cup. Their portkey was leaving at 4 am. That wasn't something anybody wanted to be told at 4 pm the previous afternoon.

Not even one day in and she already hated this department.

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Her alarm clock woke her up at 3 am. Using her hands to steady herself she crawled to the bathroom. A look at the mirror made her sigh. Who was this horrible looking witch with terrible hair and swollen eyes?

She arrived at the office at 3:45 wearing her business-robes. She stumbled over her own feet which were still a little sore from having spent the previous day in heels. Since Hermione had still plenty of time, she decided to have a cup of coffee. The brew was too hot and too bitter for her taste but at least it helped her stay awake.

Percy arrived shortly after her. Hoping that Mr. Hargreaves would make an appearance soon, she didn't feel like she could continue to talk to Percy without hexing him. For some reason, he never managed to do anything quite right. What was he doing here, anyway? Shouldn't a deputy cover for his boss?

Hermione started to feel very uncomfortable. It was already 3:58 and the two of them were still alone. She was worried.

"What are you two doing, still standing around?" Mr. Hargreaves asked them looking at his wrist-watch, "It's time. We only have 17 seconds until our portkey leaves."

Hermione was startled. She looked at the red-haired for confirmation before hesitantly walking the few steps to their boss. First Percy and then she placed her hands on the black leather boot the older wizard was holding. There was an uncomfortable pull. Hermione's hands tightened around the portkey, holding onto it with all her strength, not wanting to get lost midway to Brazil.

Finally, feeling the solid ground beneath her feet, the young witch inhaled sharply, needing fresh air in her lungs. Everything was spinning around her. She was hit by the hot and humid air. She felt dizzy; her knees gave in and Hermione tumbled to the ground. Breathing heavily, she laid there for a brief moment, allowing herself to acclimate.

Percy helped her up and they waddled towards the big stadium. Sinking into the ground, she cursed her impractical footwear. Relieved to have finally made it to their designated camp-site where Percy unpacked the tent that was provided by the Ministry. Hermione yawned. She couldn't wait to crawl inside and have a nap.

"You have exactly four minutes to get ready for our dinner with the foreign delegation."

Hermione hoped the groan she just let out wasn't audible. She walked to the bathroom of the generous tent, grabbed a glass and filled it with water. Once the last gulp ran down her throat she looked in the mirror. Her frizzy hair looked even bushier and more untamable in the humid environment. Breathing felt heavy and it was simply too hot. She desperately wanted to shed her robes and take a shower, instead, she cast a quick cooling charm upon her self and left the tent.

Frankly, Hermione was looking forward to meeting the witches and wizards from the Côte d'Ivoire. It has been too long since she last had an opportunity to speak French. What bothered her were her own teammates. As if being stuck with Percy wasn't bad enough, her boss was overly punctual.

Generally, Hermione was rather particular about that herself, but counting seconds was taking it to an extreme, especially considering that different cultures had a very different interpretation of being in time. She wondered if that might be a problem.

"They're already 3 minutes late," Mr. Hargreaves said pacing up and down.

The young witch looked to the ground unsure what to do.

"Some people have no sense of duty," Percy said, apparently pretending to be annoyed.

There we go, back to kissing asses. Five minutes later the Africans arrived 'just in time'. Hermione tried to look friendly and welcoming but from the corner of her eyes, she could see Percy rolling his eyes. She flinched knowing that they weren't having a good start.

Being told to keep her head down, she picked on her chicken. On the other side of the table, there was a lion, tied to the table on a leash. Wasn't it illegal to keep wildcats as a pet? It was definitely a safety risk. She kept staring at the poor creature wanting to free it. It was hard for her not to walk up to the head of the large table hex the tribal chief and simply free the animal. But she also didn't want to cause an international incident.

As the lion grabbed nearly all of her attention it didn't bother her as much to be not included in the conversation. All Hermione was thinking about was whether the animal was suffering or not. From what she could see it wasn't injured but that didn't mean it was happy.

The next morning, Hermione was told to enjoy herself while the two wizards went to negotiate a free-trade agreement. She waved them bye and quietly entered the tent. Throwing her outer robes onto the armed chair, she noticed tears welling up in her eyes and stomped her foot onto the ground.

This was so unfair. Never in her life had she felt that useless. That moment, she realized that she was the lion, only present to impress. The worst thing was that Percy was participating in crucial work even though he didn't even speak French. According to office-rumors, he was only given this job for Arthur helping Elena Hargreaves, the muggle-born daughter-in-law, flee from persecution during the war. Seriously, who would hire someone to work International Relations who didn't even speak a single foreign language if it wasn't for a life debt?

She walked to her small room and threw herself on the bed. Hermione hadn't thrown a fit in nearly 15 years but she also hadn't felt so helpless since then. This was exactly the kind of discrimination she wanted to end. The thing that bothered her the most wasn't terrorist attacks, it was nepotism and the lack of transparency. How were Muggleborns supposed to ever get a good job when they were rather given to friend's children?

After a while, the young witch was done pitying herself. She changed into something more comfortable and left the tent. Walking towards the stadium her nostrils were filled with exotic smells. A part of her wanted to try and taste the fragrant dishes wizards and witches from around the world were wrapping up.

A few steps away from the campsite she saw a beautiful Hippogriff standing on a paddock. Mesmerized by the magnificent creature, the young witch walked slowly towards it, bowing just like Hagrid thought her. With her eyes fixed on the creature, she almost didn't notice the wizard who was leaning against the fence.

"Miss Granger?" he asked.

She nodded slowly, wondering why he knew her name. Looking at the dark-skinned wizard wearing nothing but a loincloth beneath his leopard-print robes, she recognized him as one of the wizards hosting last night's dinner. The third son of the tribal-chief looked friendly. It took them a while to get their accents sorted but the two of them ended up having a pleasant conversation.

"- you're kidding,"

"No, I'm serious. I've flown on the back of a Hippogriff and let me tell you, it wasn't as horrible as riding a Thestral which I couldn´t even see back then," Hermione explained.

The young wizard chuckled. The creature placed its clawed forelegs onto the fence allowing the two of them to stroke its head. As the conversation progressed they addressed the elephant in the room. Hermione was glad to have bought and read a book on business-french before going on the trip, so she could discuss all the points of the agreement in the necessary detail.

Hermione only knew what they wanted to achieve with this treaty because she studied her boss' thorough notes in advance but she and the African wizard had bonded and that made negotiating relatively easy. Be it inexperience or ignorance to vested interests, the two of them fairly quickly reached an agreement. Once it was signed by all parties the delegations drank together before returning to their tents.

Since their return to England, Hermione spent the rest of the week ignoring Percy. She just couldn't look at him. During their trip, she had at some point stopped seeing Percy as a person. Now he was the epitome of everything she wanted to fight and Hermione didn't know how to deal with it.

It was Friday noon and´Hermione was looking forward to the end of her week at the Department for International Magical Cooperation. She was about to enter the break room when she spotted Percy's red shock of hair. Hermione was about to leave the area as quickly as possible but the Weasley came running after her.

"Do you think I didn't notice that you're ignoring me?" he asked.

She swallowed hard. "You're receiving more than enough recognition for things you didn't even do."

Percy suddenly paled. She must have struck a nerve.

"What am I supposed to do? I'm stuck here. No one would hire me, let alone give me a promotion."

Hermione took a deep breath and said, "Well, for what it's worth, I think you were right all along, cauldron thickness is an important issue, Luna's mom died in an accident, but you're a terrible diplomat. If your interested, next week I'm with the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creature, we could meet up for lunch in the cafeteria, if you want to?"

"You want to be seen with me?"

"Sure," Hermione said hoping she won't come to regret her giving him a second chance.


End file.
